Love and Lust
by Twoformemories
Summary: An addiction will supersede all things. To be truly addicted one will perform any act, will breach every morality, do anything at all to satisfy it. So the question is, where lies the difference between addiction, and love? SasukeXHinata, HinataXNaruto, SasukeXSakura
1. Chapter 1

The room was quiet and dark, but she could feel his presence in it. It was in the small things he had done to prepare for her. How he had left only a solitary lamp on, filling the corners with a dusky darkness, just enough light so she could find her way to the bedroom, and how his arrival before her had filled the space with his cloying scent. A dark, secret thing that was uniquely his and which she had never found a match. Hinata shuddered and removed her coat, hanging it on the rack leaving her in only a long shimmering strapless dress. She delved deeper into the room.

She was drawn inside on invisible strings of yearning. The same pull that had taken her from her husband's side on pretence of seeing a movie, it now pulled her past the bedroom door, closed it carefully behind her, and took her into the darkness beyond.

Only dim shapes existed there, manifested from the glow of a thin curtain over the window. She saw a desk, a clock, the bed, and him.

His scent filled the room, the jagged edges of his hair standing out as he rose to meet her. He was undressed, his body taut with subtle muscles defined sharply in the bare light. His dark eyes smoldered from beneath his brow as he took a moment to simply drink her in.

They said nothing. He clasped her and clothing whispered as it fell from her, her defences picked apart by his practiced hands. They were nothing but shadows as he kissed along her neck and continued to undress her. She gasped as his teeth brushed her sensitive skin. She was acutely aware of everything happening then. The shape of the bed, the sound of his heavy breathing, the way the city lights made the drawn curtains seem blue.

Both their hair was black, hers long and fanning in the darkness; his short, mussed and spiked about him.

They broke apart. "Hinata," he gasped, holding her.

"Sasuke," she mewled helplessly. His arms tightened possessively and pulled her closer.

Did she consider it betrayal to her husband, permitting this other man to run his hands across her now naked form? To bear her down to the bed, attacking her with hands and mouth as if to devour her? For her to respond to these attacks with cries and writhing upon the sheets, submitting to his every touch? She did. She hated herself for it, but could not stop. If she hadn't the strength when she drove to this address, could she now when lying pliant beneath his hands? Could she have resistance to him now, when this was merely the latest of their trysts? She wished she could, but addiction curbs the morality of man and woman, supersedes and makes its victims slaves.

She had but one consolation. When he attempted to capture her lips, as he always did, she turned her head so he would kiss her flushed cheek. As he entered her was passion, to kiss would be to admit it as love.

His hands grasped her legs and hooked them onto his hips. Her hands found his back and pulled him close as he pressed inside of her, drawing in and out, sending them both rocking upon the bed. She cried when his hands found her full breasts and rolled the sensitive quivering flesh. She felt the corded muscles above her as he lunged inside her with sharp motions as though driving a knife into her. He knew her every curve, explored every inch, he was a master of her body by now, and he seemed to never tire of exploring it anew.

"Hinata, Hinata," he gasped.

"Sasuke, Sasuke," she replied.

He arched his back and groaned with completion. She threw her head back and sighed as if in relief. And they fell together, silent with heaving chests as they fought for breath. He would be ready again soon, neither was yet satisfied, and neither spoke as they waited. She wondered, at these times, if he was filled with the same regrets as she? Did he think of what they did with either shame or regret? She would dearly like to know, but was far too afraid to speak, as if to do so would admit some intimacy she was not ready to confess. He had tried to engage her, once or twice when they had first began these meetings, but she had always rebuked the normally silent Uchiha, and he had not tried since.

As the beads of sweat dried against her porcelain skin, she felt him revitalize with strength. His muscles, tone and firm against her skin hardened and grew taut as flipped her onto her stomach. She rose to her hands and knees and he took her once again.

The clock on the bedside glared 10:00pm when they were finally sated. Still in darkness he waited as the shower ran, she inside and scrubbing herself clean of his scent and marks of their sex. But it always lingered, and she finally gave up and exited, wrapped only in a towel.

He was still naked and sitting on the bed, hands clasped between his legs as she dressed. Her cheeks flushed with familiar self-consciousness, feeling his eyes upon her. She turned to leave.

"Thursday, then?"

Hand upon the door, she paused. She dared not look back and see the expression on his face. "Y…Yes."

"Hotel Fortuna." She heard the sheets rustle as he stood. "You have my number?"

She remained standing, paralyzed by his voice. "I…Yes."

He chuckled wryly to himself. "Of course you do."

She left without another word, bundled in her coat as if to hide her shame as she slipped into her car and fled the lonely hotel for home.

Home. It was hers, though she felt unworthy of it. Naruto had never done anything to drive her into the arms of another man. He was not cruel, negligent, or cold. He was laughter, happiness and loved her with that universal love he held for all things. Nor did she hate him; else it would not hurt her so deeply to do this to him. What made it possibly worse was that she knew she had nothing really to fear. Naruto trusted her implicitly, and Sasuke would never betray her. She wondered how she knew this of the dark haired Uchiha, for he had such a great hold upon her, yet somehow, she knew she could trust him, no matter what. And that thought always made the gnawing guilt worsen.

As she opened the door to their flat Naruto rose from the couch where he had been waiting. His smile filled the room as surely as all the lights, as bright as his frock of yellow hair and the absurd orange bath robe he insisted on wearing.

"Hinata!" he laughed, catching her curvaceous body in his embrace. "How was the movie?"

Thoughts fled her at his touch. She wrapped her arms about his taller form and leaned her head against his bare chest, feeling his warmth and listening to the steady thrum of his heart. She sighed, and told herself she did not deserve him.

"F-fine," she whispered at length.

His large hand patted her back. "Great! So I was thinking we could go out for dinner tomorrow night. You know I love your ramen, but we haven't done anything special in a while now. Just the two of us, you know? It's nice to go out and do something fancy now and then. Like a date! We used to go out all the time when we were dating, right? Hinata? Hinata, are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, wiping her eyes hastily. "I'm sorry I…I'm sorry. I want to go. It sounds great. I…I'll stop I…" But she did not, and merely sobbed harder until her very shoulders shook.

Naruto smiled softly with bemusement and compassion – the whisker-like scars on his cheeks lifting at the motion – and hugged her closer to his chest. "Hey. Hey, Hinata. It's okay. It's okay. Sh. It's okay."

But she did not stop until she ran out of tears to shed.

()O()

**Well, it has been a while. A bit different from my usual fare. This is simply an idea which has been percolating in my mind for some time. I'm not sure if I will continue it or not. The story simply appealed to me, and I decided to put it to paper. Hopefully some of you will get a kick out of it. I have an idea for the next chapter, but much of it is very much in the air.**

**The standard request from me to you. Read, review, tell me what you liked, what you did not, and I'll see what I can do.**


	2. Chapter 2

Sasuke had a single chair worth mentioning in all of his home. All other furniture existed to fill the space in the penthouse suite, and was treated accordingly. That chair alone was uniquely his. It had been reupholstered several times, and thus altered was never comfortable for the first few weeks until he managed to make it his own again. It was checkered right now with black and white squares that wrapped around every inch of the fabric. Set before the grand window that consumed an entire wall, while sitting in it he could look down upon the whole of the city, through the smog that coloured everything in a haze of grey.

He watched as the day began to die, the sun a violent red as it tinged the horizon and began to finally fall, burning itself out in a final glorious blaze on the horizon. Sasuke was still dressed in his work suit though he had come home hours ago. He had not even bothered to remove the jacket, the tailored black fabric conforming perfectly to him like a second skin. His father had always said it was as though he had been born in a suit, he wore them so well. Such an odd man. It was a shame how things had turned out. Sasuke chuckled hollowly into the emptiness of home.

From behind, two arms draped themselves over his shoulders and wrapped around his neck like a noose. The fragrant scent of cherry blossoms filled the air as the woman behind him sagged against the chair with the jingling of jewelry. "Sakura," he greeted without turning around. He had no need to, easily able to picture her. She would be wearing a red dress of satin with a long slit up the leg, work attire from the club she sang at, her face a beauty bejeweled with makeup and her pink hair drifting over her shoulders. He felt certain the colour was dyed, but it was the colour he had known all his life, so it may as well be her natural one now. Several strands tickled his neck.

"Sasuke," she said. "Why do you like looking out this window so much?"

"I paid for the view. I may as well use it."

"You paid for the kitchen too, but I never see you use that."

He chuckled shortly. He had indeed paid for it, paid a great deal, but Sakura had decorated it. She had done the same to most of the penthouse, creeping in like a thief only instead of taking things she put them in. Carpets, paintings, appliances, curtains, she had filled his surroundings with her own presence, all excepting the chair he now sat in. If anyone walked into his home, they would see Sakura, but not Sasuke.

"Business doing well?" she asked.

"It is."

"Well that's good." A pause. "I heard Itachis' coming home soon. You okay?"

"He was bound to eventually."

"Sorry. I know how you feel about him."

"Hn."

"What's that?"

"Hm?"

"The book. What were you reading?"

"Oh." He lifted his arm so she could see the cover. "_First Love _by Ivan Turgenev."

"Any good?"

Sasuke dropped his hand limply to his side once more, book dangling from his fingertips. "You wouldn't like it." Sakura wouldn't. Not that she was stupid, but that it was merely not her taste. He wondered if Hinata did. He snapped the book shut, cutting off the errant thought. "Sakura. Why are you here?" he abruptly asked in a low, husky voice.

She snorted and released his neck. Stepping away with the swish of cloth she threw her arms wide. "Are you joking? Have you looked around this place? If I didn't come by, it would need archaeologists to sift through the dust. You don't even take enough of an interest to hire a maid. I hired one for you, by the way. Have you seen her? Bah, you practically live at your office. I swear Sasuke, if I lived here-"

"Sakura."

She flinched at the ice in his voice. Her arms fell and she looked at the back of the chair. She could only see his hands, where they gripped the arms with muscles defined by self-control. "Sasuke, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Stop. Don't."

She did. The silence thickened and seeped through the room like a grim miasma. Sakura fidgeted in place and watched the back of the chair nervously. The sunlight was now in its death throes, and the artificial stars of city lights began to glow, pale imitations for the real things but that outshone the true stars all the same, leaving the sky a blank canvas of black. Sasuke's suit hissed as he rose, a shadow against the window overlooking the night.

"Sasuke?"

"I'm leaving."

"So soon? It's still an hour before-"

He brushed past her and grabbed his coat. "Lock up before you go."

The door thudded as he closed it behind him. He entered the coffin chamber that was the elevator and pressed for the ground floor. His nose twitched, Sakura's perfume from his jacket filling the space despite his quick extraction from her. Nowhere in the building was safe from her. He sighed and weathered the journey.

The question of Sakura had been one that he had grappled with and came to a resolution long ago. She loved him with all her heart, the intimate affection of a woman to a man and not a friend to another. It was a feeling he could not reciprocate. Oh he had tried, to be sure he had. He considered her obvious and fervent affections deserving of no less, but he had turned it over every which way in his mind, and years ago came to the unalterable conclusion that though he loved her, it was never in the way she wanted him to. She was a friend, a companion, a confidant, but he could not see her as more. That realization filled him with a deep seated guilt that remained to this day, but he knew what he had to do. He had told her that fact, and it had been horrible. How he wished she had been some shrewish harpy, her manner cruel, her tongue sharp and his rebuke easy. But no, for he cared for her, and so it had torn him to see her plead and blunder, try and cajole and reason, as if she could convince him that he could love her, assured him that she would do anything to cultivate his love, change any aspect of herself. But though her tears had torn deep wounds of pity in him, to love out of pity was not what she deserved. To lie would have been worse for them both. So he remained firm, dried her tears, helped her up, and rebuked her once more and with perfect finality.

Yet she remained, a sad devotionary to him, fluttering about him, caring for him, and he permitted this, for he could not deny her that after all he had done. In truth, were he to truly regret his actions he should have sent her away from him, for distance would perhaps soothe her wounds rubbed raw, allow her new avenues of affection, and perhaps gain them both a more platonic understanding. But he feared hurting her further than he had already, so they tortured one another in their regrets.

The doors dinged open and Sasuke escaped into the foyer. Security guards in their black uniforms at the desk and near the doors hastily stood and bowed to him, but he did not notice, for he was already outside.

His car, sleek and black like it had been painted in crude oil shone in the city lights beaming down from above. He slipped inside and settled into the seat. A turn of the key, he reversed, and roared out onto the streets. It was a vehicle built for speed in a city where the average street traffic allowed for a crawl. It was a powerful beast, confined and collared by the city's regulations, but he relished in the power beneath his hands and, at times, gave free rein to it when his frustration peaked. Such as now, his foot depressing the gas, the engine purring, its cadence rising to a growl as he dodged around slower moving cars. The exhilaration and sensation of speed filled him with joy, every nerve seeming to sing as he swung the heavy steel of his car about, his cares drawing away as though to slow to catch up, his mind going blank but for the sheer exhilaration of the automated motions, letting his body and its urges drive as the mind took a back seat.

He entered a parking lot and as he drew to a stop his consciousness seemed to snap back elastically into him. Looking almost dazedly out the window he was surprised to see the hotel he and Hinata were to meet at. It rose before him like some behemoth from beneath the sea of lights and asphalt, Romanesque pillars like teeth clenched in pain and a thousand staring eyes of glass, the light of its sign amidst the dark like the lure of an angler fish drawing in its prey. Cement grey painted a tanner colour that darkened black with the onset of the night; it loomed over him as Sasuke drew nearer.

The shock was quickly subdued within him. Where else would he have been going, after all? He silenced his car and stepped outside, but as a sudden afterthought removed his jacket. He sniffed and was again assaulted with the faint odour of cherry blossoms. Grimacing he balled it and threw it into the back seat before he approached the hotel. No one paid him a second glance when he stepped into the foyer, and why should they? Nobody would know him. Certainly not the pasty faced youth in his red uniform hiding behind the check in desk, room keys arrayed behind him. It was Sasuke's habit to regularly change the location where he and Hinata would meet, not due to any concerns of his own, but to allay her likely groundless but present fears. Not that she had mentioned them to him. She rarely dared try and speak to Sasuke for obvious reasons.

As for himself, Sasuke had no fear of being recognized personally. He wasn't the face everyone would associate with Uchiha Pharmaceuticals.

He drifted through the perfunctory check in process indifferently. Hello sir, do you have a reservation? I do. Under? Taka. There it is. Here's your key. Check out's at ten. Hn. And just like that he was gone, walking with measured steps towards the elevator. He always made the reservations. He always arrived first, but that was primarily because he couldn't let her. He had once, an unfortunate situation at work forestalling him, and it had almost been too much for him to bear. Her scent, her presence, she had filled the room in the span of only twenty minutes with a warmth that felt like home, a home he could never have. He had ached when the night ended and she was gone, as though she had mocked him with what she would not give him, though she couldn't have known. He would never let her know what he truly wanted from her, lest she panic, flee; leave him with naught but the memory of her touch, and a longing he had never known before her. It was almost too cruel.

He slid the key into the lock and stepped inside, leaving it open a hair, as he always did so Hinata would not need to reveal herself to the desk to ask for a key. The room was cold, sterile, like a surgery merely waiting for the patient. He checked his watch, and saw he still had three hours before she would arrive. He snorted, reflecting he shouldn't have left so abruptly. But it was his bed, so he must lie in it, so to speak. He still had to make the room his. When she walked in she had to see him, feel him with every step, and breathe him in with every breath. Such an advantage he dared not forsake. He knew she wanted him, nay, needed him though the reason for it he could not fully fathom. Yet he wanted her, so he would do what he could to make sure she thought of him alone this night. She would come to him. She would not stay with him. That was alright. He would take what she was willing to give.

He set out the towels in the bathroom and turned off every light but the one separating bedroom from hall. That he dimmed, only enough so she could find her way to the bedroom. She didn't like to see him completely, a reaction he had discerned early in their affair by the pain in her eyes, for to see his face made her guilt hit home. So she would do without his face, and so be that much more willing to return, he supposed. He drew the curtains giving the room the palest of blue glow. He couldn't do more, and had the nagging suspicion he didn't want to. Lastly, he undressed himself. He didn't want to waste time when she arrived, give her time to think, time to leave. He hid his clothes in the dresser. It would be like he only existed in this room. This and a hundred other rooms like it before, but darkness made them interchangeable, almost the same, a space outside reality, where the consequences of her actions would not reach to the world outside, taint her life beyond.

He paced the room and glanced at the clock. He still had two hours. He cursed but swallowed his frustration. She would come to him. Finally he sat upon the bed, outwardly calm, inside tremulous and expectant. He existed for what was to come, had survived the week to be here. Every meal he ate, moment he slept, was all to be here, to be with her. The sex? What of it. It was merely an act, one she employed and he accepted the part in. An excuse, really, for him to be with her in the sole context she was willing to accept, or perhaps incapable of resisting. He made it easy for her, for fear made him craven. Fear that if he tried to push for more, she would break in his hands like a delicate glass figure.

Time passed slowly, exhibited on the red face of the bedside clock.

Then, he heard it. He stiffened at the sound of the door closing and raised his head as though peeping over a wall to the garden beyond. He stopped breathing so the sound would not distort the rustle her coat made as she removed it. His hands gripped the balls of his knees as her footsteps drew nearer the closed door. They stopped. The door opened. He stood.

There she was. The shape of her body was thrown up before him like some eternal image of woman. The blue light from the window glowed against her strapless dress, made her hair flash like polished onyx and her large eyes stand out like twin spheres of silver. She stepped inside hesitant, fearful, and he approached her. He clasped her to remind him she was here, gripped her so she might not vanish. He would take the initiative for she would not, and this was what he was waiting for.

He took her dress and peeled it away to reveal the gentle curves of her breasts. He nuzzled her neck and tasted her flesh, intoxicating himself on her scent, delighting in the way she gasped and leaned away revealing her swan-like neck. He kissed and licked up it but never sucked. He could leave no mark. She was not his to mark.

He tore away the last of her clothes. His hands gripped her arms, cupped her breasts. She was naked. She was alone. She was his.

He took her to the bed, never stopping tasting and exploring her. She was complaint and trembled beneath him like a frightened doe, afraid of the power he had over her, the cries he could elicit, the predator in him. Such power was nothing compared to hers over him, but so many ignored the true relationship between predator and prey. He might devour her, but he survived on her. But she must never know. Know that were she to tell him to jump from the window he would in an instant; to kill he would ask only how she willed it done; for him to leave…

His hand tightened upon a breast and she gasped in pain prompting an immediate release. It was best she did not know her power, for if she did she would be frightened, reject it and he with it. Perhaps she might learn to appreciate it, but Sasuke refused such a risk. She was here. She was his, for now. For the night. For this moment. That was enough. He knew she wanted him, desired him in her own way, and he would use that so he could make love to her, take what he could of her. It was all he had.

He moved forward to capture her lips. He needed to kiss her. A test for the impossible, a faint hope, to seek out if she now wanted more than merely their evening trysts. A romantic notion, but he knew valid nonetheless. But she turned away, and he was in a hotel room kissing her reluctant cheek.

He hooked her legs over his hips. She arched beneath him as he pressed inside and gave himself to the enjoyment of her rapturous body. He took her slowly, savoring it.

"Hinata, Hinata," he gasped.

"Sasuke, Sasuke," she replied.

But too soon, far too soon, she yielded to him twice more and then they were exhausted, and he pulled free at last.

They lay apart as they recovered. Sasuke felt her leave through the rise of the mattress and the sound of a closing door. He swung his legs over the side of the bed to face the bathroom and listened to the sound of the water as she tried to wash herself clean of their coupling. He clasped his hand and stared into them thoughtfully as though they held the secret of keeping her.

She emerged moments after the water died, silhouetted in the door by the golden glow of the light inside. She left it on and he watched her as she nervously moved about, collecting her cast of clothing, hastily, clumsily. Then she was dressed. She was at the door. No! Not yet!

"Thursday then?" he heard himself ask.

She paused. "I…Yes."

"Hotel Fortuna." He had made the arrangement weeks ago. Why was he doing this? He always sent her the specifics in a message the night before. He stood. "You have my number?"

She remained standing, paralyzed by his voice. "I…Yes."

His eyes bored into the lavender of her hair, but she did not turn around. He blinked, caught himself, and when he realized what he was doing gave a low throaty chuckle in contempt at his weakness. "Yes. Of course you do." He watched her shiver, open the door and vanish into the night.

Sasuke sighed, permitted his knees to buckle and collapsed onto the bed. He lay there, bare flesh sinking into the coverlet, mattress depressing around his figure. He basked in the memories held in that room, brief though they were, treasured though they would become like all others before them. They would tide him over for now, a balm for the black fire which consumed him. Until Thursday when he would be ignited once more.

He smiled sardonically and listened to the traffic as it echoed from below.

()O()

**And so we see our principle characters and are introduced to some semblance of the plot. I may need to find a beta for the chapters after this, as I don't know if I can trust myself half the time with my writing. Editing is where I usually make a story my own, but after reading it too often I need fresh eyes to see what I have missed.**

**On that note, I would be grateful for any reviews and your thoughts on the story so far. I read them all and respond to those I can. I hope you enjoyed the second installment.**


	3. Chapter 3

There was a certain single minded resoluteness about Naruto when he was upset. Like an enthusiastic dog worrying a rag, he would seize upon a problem and tear at it until it was only so many threads. He did not sit on matters as other might, and so it was that the very night after his tryst with Hinata and her resulting collapse in her husband's arms that Sasuke, who had only just stepped outside his office, found a car pull up before him and the door snap open. He peered inside and found Naruto hunched over the wheel. With a ritualistic understanding, the Uchiha stepped inside, and they wordlessly sped away.

The bar they entered was nothing fancy, but their suits and ties would also not look out of place. It was a bar that straddled the line between casual and formal, mingling the worlds of business and recreation in a storm of voices, faces and a smoky haze of dim lights that shrouded much that formed their surroundings in uncertainty. They approached the bar straight away and Sasuke leaned against the bar to look at the room around them. Naruto ordered, and the Uchiha took what was given to him; he had not taken enough of an interest in the process to know what. He sniffed it, but was hardly versed enough to place it. He never went drinking alone, nor did he particularly enjoy it either. To drink for him was to socialize, an excuse to be around people. There being woefully few he desired to entertain, he naturally did it rarely. One of those he did like to be around, even with events as they were, was Naruto, his friend, and who was currently leaning despondently upon the bar, gazing into a glass as though to read his fortune in the drunken waters.

Naruto spun the glass between his hands moodily but did not speak. Sasuke waited patiently for his friend to compose his thoughts.

"I don't know," Naruto abruptly began in a sort of stubborn tone, as though continuing an argument he had been holding in his head. He leaned back, and slowly exhaled. "I don't know, Sasuke. I invited her for dinner and she just started crying. I had no idea what to do. I just…Eventually she calmed down enough to go to bed but…Sasuke, she was just bawling. I had no idea why."

"Hn." Sasuke sipped his glass, not at all perturbed by this sudden start, for whenever Naruto came to him, it was because his own arguments had failed to yield an immediate result. How odd to think, Sasuke mused, that he could solve this vexing mystery with but a word. Odd, but not tempting. Though Sasuke did consider Naruto his friend, the relationship had metamorphosed of late, though so deep beneath the surface that appearance remained unchanged like some insidious disease. Naruto had become a link between Sasuke and the life Hinata lived. He wondered what Naruto would do if he knew? He took another sip. Honestly? Sasuke found it hard to care.

"Troubles at home?" he offered instead.

Naruto shook his head. "No. Not that I know of. Everything seems to be fine. Nothing major anyway. I mean, I don't think it's anything there. We don't seem to be having problems."

Except your wife's fucking your best friend Sasuke thought, downing the rest of his drink. Sasuke felt little guilt for this. Naruto had Hinata. He could love her in the light of day. She would answer his kisses with her embrace and would cry in shame at what she did behind his back. So why should Sasuke not have a single night of the week with her? Did he not want Hinata as much as Naruto, if not more? Yet he was reduced to playing the beau by moonlight. Well, so be it. But he would not admit to guilt. No matter the consequences to come.

He drained the last of his drink. Placing it upon the counter he grabbed another from the row which lined the counter.

Naruto looked his way. "Do you and Sakura ever have problems like this?"

Sasuke's laugh was a sharp and humourless bark. "No. Our relationship isn't like yours at all," he reminded Naruto. "We're just friends."

Naruto frowned, seemed about to speak, but let it pass. "I guess," he said suddenly, giving his glass another turn. "What do you think it is then?"

"Couldn't say," Sasuke lied as smoothly as a snake. He shrugged. "Anything been different lately? Change of the routine? Any of that?"

After taking a moment for reflection Naruto shook his head. "No. No. Can't think of anything. Her schedule is pretty reliable honestly. Wakes up. Cooks breakfast. She loves to cook, you know. We could hire one but…ah, well. I love hers all the same. You should come over one of these days. You'd love it."

Sasuke curled a lip, more a scowl than a sneer. He hid it in another drink. "That would probably be a bad idea."

"You always say that. Ah. Your loss."

Sasuke smiled sardonically and sipped his drink. "Probably. Please. Continue."

"Oh! Right. Well, after that I go to work. She has Pilates or something down on fourth, I think. That family of hers really hammered into her the whole fitness thing. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Well, about that part anyway. Then she sometimes does shopping, I guess. She has those two friends of hers too, anyway. The vet and the other one. She probably hangs out with them a bit. I…Hm. You know? I don't really know what she does between then and I get home. She probably visits her friends. She doesn't have enough, really. Maybe she's lonely…I know she reads a lot. She loves that. Did I mention that?"

"Occasionally."

"Yeah. She just finished this Russian guy's. Some romance book, I think. I never got into it. A bit too wordy for me. Now she's reading this other guy's. Isak something. Wrote about living in Africa or something."

Sasuke watched the darkness of the bar as Naruto talked, coveting every piece of information as a miser would precious stones. He let the Uzumaki ramble on, merely absorbing this other life into him. A light smile touched his lips.

"She did say she was thinking about maybe seeing a psychologist."

Sasuke's grip upon the glass suddenly tightened. The smile, brief though it was, vanished like a mask removed and left his face empty. He asked, in a voice flat and devoid of any emotion, "Is she?"

Naruto shrugged. "Yeah. She says there's nothing wrong but…eh, well, you don't go to someone like that for nothing, huh?"

Sasuke cracked his jaw. Taking a firming draught of his drink he steadied himself against the bar. "Did she say who?"

Naruto shook his head. "No. Does it matter? Eh. It's probably just a thought, I guess. She's really hesitant about it. You know how that family of hers can be. They see it as a sort of weakness, I guess. I don't really get it. But they're big on their independence. Kind of funny when you think about it."

Sasuke nodded slowly.

Naruto suddenly thumped the bar with his hand. "Got it!" he cried. "I got it. It's probably her damn family giving her trouble again. Those Hyuuga's. Nightmare in-laws. They're always bugging her. Every now and then they just suddenly get it in their heads to pester her. They never did like me, really. Did you know that?"

Sasuke smiled and rolled his eyes, humour returning as if to fill the gap left by fear. "No. The family of rich autocrats didn't like the nobody stealing away their heiress? Who could have seen that coming?"

Naruto grinned and clucked his tongue. "Ah! So you can laugh at things."

In riposte, Sasuke tipped his drink towards his companion. "Only sometimes. But you were in need of some heavy money back then."

"Hey," Naruto challenged at once. Drawing himself up, the Uzumaki huffed. "It was never about her money. And I managed on my own, I have you know. I knew I would find some people who believed in me. She was the first. It just…you know, took a little while to find more."

Sasuke shrugged. "Fair enough. I didn't mean anything by it."

Naruto seemed to deflate back to his chair. "I know. Ha. Yeah. I guess. You know?" He threw his hand in the air thoughtlessly. "Her dad still thinks I married her to get at his money. Even after he made her sister heiress. He's absolutely convinced of it. Even after she gave it up to marry me. I guess he thinks I want to use her to get at his sympathies. Like there's any of that in him. Her cousin's just as bad. Almost worse really, because he still comes to see her. He thinks she's too good for me or something. I guess. Who knows. They're all weird."

Sasuke nodded, recalling easily the stern faced patriarch of the Hyuuga clan and the cousin who shared so many of the elder's features. An insular family, Sasuke had honestly been surprised that Naruto had managed to win Hinata out from beneath their eerie eyes. But she had always been different, hadn't she? Sasuke sipped at his drink again. "And? Have they ever made her act like this before?"

This sobered Naruto at once. Perhaps to counter it he took a long pull of his own drink. "No. Never," he admitted, grudgingly.

"Then you might be wrong."

Hunching his shoulders in defeat Naruto grunted. The simple explanation denied him, his morose mood returned, "I guess." He turned to the bar again. Glass scraped against wood as he began turning his drink this way and that on the bar once more. He looked up and stared into the mirror behind the bar, his eyes pleading. "Sasuke? What do you think I should do?"

Despite himself Sasuke smiled and gently swirled his drink. Yes, what would he do were Hinata his? His eyes hardened almost cruelly. Anything. Anything to keep her. Treat her like a goddess, love her every word, lock her in a room so no one but he could ever look upon her. What should he tell Naruto to do? The answer was, of course, obvious. Forget about it. It's probably nothing. Maybe she's going through a stressful period.

"Hire a detective."

A tense silence fell upon the two. Naruto turned slowly and searched his friend's face for a sign it was a joke. Sasuke merely stood there as though petrified, his pale face grey like that of a corpse. Naruto pursed his lips. "You're really drunk tonight, Sasuke." The Uchiha failed to answer. Naruto shut his eyes tight as though to visualize the thought, looking for all the imperfections, the ugliness he knew were there. "No. No…" Naruto shook his head and waved it away. "No. Never. She's my wife, Sasuke. I trust her, and she trusts me. What would hiring a detective accomplish? It would be as good as admitting she's hiding something from me. It's probably nothing."

"You asked for my advice," Sasuke said, voice hoarse like he had drunk acid. He downed the drink in his hand and snatched yet another off the bar. He must be drunk. He realized by the white of his knuckles he was holding the glass frightfully tight, and promptly eased his grip.

Naruto sighed and rubbed his head. "Pah. Probably nothing. I'm just overreacting. It could be anything. I don't know." He stopped cold, fingers still entangled in his hair. Raising his head, Naruto peered at Sasuke. "Hey," he began with eyes suddenly shining. He licked his lips hesitantly. "Do you think…the stress and all that…do you think she might be thinking about having a baby?"

The glass shattered in Sasuke's grip.

A stunned silence fell over them all. Blood dripped to the floor like grains in an hourglass. Drip. Drip. Then, Naruto was at his side.

"Oh my God, Sasuke!"

Sasuke failed to notice what he had done. Naruto backed away warily at the expression of absolute fury the Uchiha wore. Pain to Sasuke was less than a distraction as he warred with himself. A shudder coursed through his entire body, and in its wake he seemed to regain some measure of self-control, though lost none of his tension.

Like an annoying sound, Sasuke became aware of the pain. He grit his teeth, liquor biting into the wounds of broken glass.

"S-Sasuke?" Naruto ventured in amazement.

Looking at neither Uzumaki nor gaping crowd, Sasuke grabbed his coat. "I'm leaving," he said tightly.

At first Naruto failed to respond as the Uchiha swept by him and to the door, crowd parting wordlessly, a trail of blood left in his wake. Then Naruto recovered himself and rushed after his friend.

"Sasuke!"

Sasuke turned, good hand on the driver's side door.

"Sasuke," Naruto called, the chill of the night falling about the two. "You can't drive like that."

"I can do what I like, Naruto."

"Sasuke!"

The Uchiha flinched. He looked to the vehicle, and suddenly remembered it was not his car they had arrived in. He had thought…He broke his grip upon the door. Cradling his wounded hand to his chest, he slunk around to the passenger side like a beaten dog.

"Shit Sasuke," Naruto said, entering the driver's side. "The hell's the matter with you?"

Sasuke offered no answer. After a moment of waiting, Naruto started the car and merged into the rest of the traffic.

As the city flashed outside Sasuke looked to his wounded hand. Face impassive, he slowly tried to loosen the tormented fist his hand had become, and found he still could not. He exhaled, slowly, wearily, and leaned against the door.

"Naruto."

Naruto flashed a glance worriedly at his companion. "Yeah?"

Sasuke studied his hand. "Take me to my apartment."

"What! Wait. Sasuke. I. No. Sasuke. No. Seriously, you…you need a doctor. I'm not just taking you home."

"Take me to my apartment."

"You're drunk."

"Yes." The Uchiha sighed. "I'm very drunk. Right now. Please."

Naruto slammed his fist on the wheel. "Goddammit Sasuke. Damn it! Fine. But I'm calling Sakura. I'm not just going to let you bleed to death in your home."

"Don't call Sakura."

"What? I'm…are you listening to yourself? You're just going to go home and collapse in your chair to bleed to death? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

He did not reply at once. Suddenly alarmed Naruto dared look away from the road to find what the matter was. But he could not see pass the mass of black hair that had slipped over to hide Sasuke's face.

"No."

"What?"

Sasuke picked a handkerchief from a pocket and began slowly wrapping up his hand. "I'm not going home. I'm going to my apartment."

"The hell are you talking about? Sasuke!"

"I broke the glass."

"Shut up about the glass."

With yet another a heavy sigh the Uchiha leaned back in his seat. "Naruto. I'll call my doctor. He'll come over. It's what I pay him for. I'll be fine. Don't worry. Just…go home. Your wife's probably worrying about you by now."

"And leave you alone? What if you're doctor's not near a phone? Huh? What…what if I drop you off and you just wander upstairs in time to collapse on the floor? Christ Sasuke. Sasuke, this is insane. I can't let you just…God! What's wrong with you?"

Sasuke's grip tightened on the door. Turning his head he watched the city pass. A sea of faceless shadows clinging to the walls like splashes of graffiti, drifting this way and that on their own business, their own lives, existing for a moment to him. A flash of light like a sign advertising who they are, then gone. He leaned his forehead against the glass, and felt the coolness of night.

"I don't need you right now, Naruto," he said lowly.

Naruto scoffed. "Oh. Gee. Thanks."

"That's not what I meant. I…Listen. I'd rather be alone right now."

Naruto scowled. "You're drunk," he said defiantly as though it explained everything. And in a way, perhaps it did. Sasuke sighed, and did not argue. They remained in that tense silence the rest of their journey, the air of the car filled with the heaviness of unspoken things.

At last, they arrived. Naruto had barely pulled up to the curb when Sasuke had forced the door open and was staggering towards the complex. "Ah, Sasuke!" Naruto cried, leaning over the seat. The Uchiha stopped and looked back, but Naruto realized he had nothing to say. Sasuke had a look to him at that moment, something that chilled Naruto to his very soul, like he had caught an animal in an unguarded moment and it had suddenly realized eyes were upon it. A moment of this silent confrontation passed, and Sasuke turned away and pushed into the building.

Naruto sat out there for some time, filled with a sense of silent alarm. He felt adrift or, rather, like the only ship anchored while all others crashed away on shattered moorings, banging against each other and him at the careless violence of a storm. And being the only one at berth seemed more terrible than to be in the storm.

Reaching into his pocket, Naruto pulled forth his phone and stared into the reflected face on the dead screen. "Hell…" Naruto muttered, tapping his phone against the dashboard. Suddenly scoffing, he flipped to Sakura's name and held it up to his ear. It rang once, he hung up. He stared at it once more, cursed, and flung it into the back.

He gripped the wheel tightly and drummed his fingers on the surface. He looked out the window to the towering building at his side, his eyes climbing every window, but they were all dark and drawn. Naruto sighed, rubbing his face with indecision.

With a start he sat up, a grin splitting his face like dawn after the dark. "Of course!" Laughing, he reversed and sped away.

0()0

**A chapter long in coming for a number of reasons. Foremost, I got a new job. Unfortunately, it's full time and temporary, and I already have one on the weekend, so can't quit the latter as the former only lasts so long. So I am working seven days a week for about two and a half months straight. Hardly ideal and leaving little time to devote to this, but money is an alluring creature, and I am miserly.**

**Secondly, this chapter really set the scene for a **_**story**_**. The first two were an event, and fairly self-contained. Herein we have the makings, mentions, and product of what I hope to become the full story I will write. Therefore, a lot of the makings of this chapter occurred simultaneously to the further outlining. Finally, there was the scene where Sasuke broke the glass. About eight rewrites to get it right, and even then, I'm still not entirely satisfied with this chapter. But you all have waited, and patiently, so I could not, in good conscience, delay further.**

**I hope you enjoy this, and that I have at least sated your patience until the next chapter.**


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